Diana Gabaldon · @Writer_DG
27th Jan 2013 from Twitlonger
#DailyLines #MOBY #WRITTENInMYOwnHEARTSBlood #Book8 #oneneverlikestothinkofonesparentsDoingIt
William choked that thought off, shoving it violently to the back of his mind. “Son of” had brought Lord John vividly to mind, though. He breathed deep of the hot, murky, fish-smelling air, trying to quell the sudden pang that came to him at thought of Papa.
He hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself, but he’d been looking through the crowd all day, scanning the faces in search of his fa—yes, dammit, his father! John Grey was as much his father now as he ever had been. _God-damned liar or not_. And William was growing worried about him. Colenso had reported that morning that Lord John had not returned to his house—and Lord John _should_ have returned by now. And if he had, he would have come to find William, he was sure of that. Unless Fraser had killed him.
He swallowed bile at the thought. Why would he? The men had once been friends, good friends.
True, war severed such bonds. But even so--
On account of Mother Claire? He recoiled from that thought, too, but made himself come back to it. He could still see her face, glowing in spite of the uproar, fierce as flame with the joy of seeing Jamie Fraser, and felt a prick of jealousy on behalf of his father. If Fraser felt similarly impassioned, might he…but that was nonsense! Surely he must realize that Lord John had only taken her under his protection—and done that for the sake of his good friend!
But then, they _were_ married…his father had always been quite open regarding matters of sex…his face grew even hotter, with embarrassment at the vision of his father enthusiastically bedding the not-quite-ex-Mrs. Fraser. And if Fraser had discovered that—
“No, sir!” he said sharply to the importunate merchant who—he realized belatedly--had just tried to bribe him to admit the merchant’s family to Howe’s ship. “How dare you? Begone, and think yourself fortunate that I have no time to deal with you as I ought!”